


The Aftermath

by lovenvtes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Die, Light Angst, M/M, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Peter Pettigrew is a Little Shit, Raising Harry Potter, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovenvtes/pseuds/lovenvtes
Summary: In which Sirius only spends a few months in Azkaban, Wolfstar raise Harry, and they reminisce a little.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 18





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> started writing it, had a breakdown, bon appetite!
> 
> (aka i wrote this in like an hour, i haven't edited it, and i also have zero experience with writing fanfiction or really fiction of any kind)

War ruins a person. It takes everything good, and kind, and familiar from you until you have to relearn how to be yourself again. 

In a small cottage, on the outskirts of a rural village in Wales, lived a family. Now they weren’t what one may deem a ‘normal’ family; it was composed of two peculiar men and a small child, a family that was formed from love rather than blood. The tallest man seemed to be some type of professor, presumably one of the humanities, who looked like comfort and kindness personified. He smiled politely at people when he was in town running errands, his amber eyes glittering almost as if he knew something that everyone else didn’t. While the shorter one seemed quite the antithesis; he had an aristocratic air about him, all sharp angles and cold stares. He seemed perpetually angry at the world, only softening when he was around the other man -who the neighbours believed to be his lover - or the little boy with the lightning bolt scar across his eye. Despite their youthful looks, there was something not quite right in the way that they acted – a faraway, haunted look in their eyes, a constant tension in their bodies almost as if they were waiting to be attacked.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

In the autumn of 1981, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black lost everything. They lost two people that they considered to be their siblings – no, they were more like soulmates. ‘Our souls were forged from the same stardust.’ Lily had once said during one of her poetic, drunken rambles; the boys had teased her mercilessly but looking back she was right (as she always was, Lily tended to be the wisest of them all). They had lost friends, family, and themselves during the first war. None of them left unscathed, or unchanged, and Sirius’ brief stint in Azkaban damaged him more than he would care to admit. The constant nightmares, breakdowns, and their fragile mental health was proof enough of how much they were affected, despite how well they learnt to mask it. However, they didn’t lose everything. There was one last sliver of happiness and hope that both men clung onto; it came in the form of untameable raven hair, emerald eyes, cheeky grins, and fierce tempers. Harry James Potter represented everything good and pure in the world, both for the Wizarding community and the men that he affectionately deemed ‘Uncle Paddy and Moo’. He seemed to have taken every positive trait from his parents, though they both joked that he would soon start exhibiting his father’s obnoxious behaviour and love for mischief (their friends all said it was karma for the issues that they had caused in their youth). Some days, he was the only thing that kept them going.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Sirius had stumbled into their dingy London flat the night of the murder, sobbing, and clutching a sleeping Harry to his chest. He was covered in blood – neither of them knew whether it was his or theirs, nor did they want to find out. While the world was taking to the streets to celebrate the death of Voldemort (“Killed by Harry Potter!” they cried “Merlin bless the Chosen One!”), the two boys, or rather men now, were wrapped in each other’s arms trying to figure out how it all went so wrong in so little time. They were barely out of Hogwarts, only a few years ago they were sat in their dorm room discussing their hopes and dreams on the eve of their graduation, and now they were trying to envision a world without their best friends, one where they were raising their child instead of them. But they couldn’t. A world without their laughter, without their stupid jokes, without them, was not a world worth living in.

Their peace was disturbed a mere few hours later as Aurors stormed in to arrest Sirius and to remove Harry and place him in his aunt’s custody, as Remus tried to save the last remaining family that he had left. He was left in his flat, alone and friendless, transported back to the solitude of his childhood. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The weeks that followed were ones that neither could remember well. As the seasons changed, Remus partook in a series of meetings and appeals to try and get justice for Sirius, all while trying to gain custody of Harry, and fighting the media frenzy that was surrounding his family. Sirius spent his days curled up as Padfoot in a cell, desperately grasping onto his happiest memories in order to stay sane. The first time James called him his brother, the look on Remus’ face when they first became animagi (and when he first kissed him), and the overwhelming joy he felt when he saw a newborn Harry nestled in between his parents. 

They finally captured Peter a few weeks later - he decided that the best way to avoid capture was to stay as Wormtail, although when he was taken in by one of the Weasley boys and lovingly named 'Scabbers' it wasn't long before he was discovered. Those two months felt like an eternity for all three of them. They had all changed as people; Harry in particular, who had become incredible anxious and developed a fear for small spaces (Remus and Sirius never forgave themselves for what happened, no matter how many times they were told that they couldn't have prevented it). When Remus finally had his boys back in his arms, he swore he would never let them go again.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

One night, during the melancholy winter of late ‘82, the Lupin-Black household was curled up on a small, ruby coloured couch that was a housewarming gift from their friends. Harry was dozing off in Sirius’ arms, giggling softly as he watched Patronus Padfoot and Moony chase each other around the living room. The radio played softly in the background (one of the records that the late Hope Lupin had given to her son), an unfinished jigsaw puzzle lay on the table, and a collection of tea-stained mugs placed precariously on top of it. Remus looked up from his novel 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' and smiled fondly at them as he murmured, “Do you think he misses his parents?”

Sirius met his partners eyes, laughing sadly, “I’m not sure he even remembers who they are, love.”

“I feel awful sometimes, y’know, for surviving while they didn’t. I mean, I can’t think of two people who deserved to live until they were old and grey more than Lily and James, yet they're going to be outlived someone who's more monster than man. But then I feel bad for sitting here and grieving, instead of living the life that they didn’t have. It’s quite selfish of me, isn’t it?”

“Oh Rem,” Sirius said, moving slightly so Remus could curl even closer next to them, “I understand what you mean; well, obviously not the monster part because you're being an absolute idiot. But they wouldn’t wish for us to trade places. We all knew what the outcome might’ve been when we agreed to fight in this war, and we all swore to do what we could to make sure that Harry survived – including sacrificing our own lives. We were just kids, high on life and drunk on love; we experienced more heartbreak in a few short years than most people would in a lifetime, and yet nobody even tried to stop us. But the ones that love us never leave us, mon chéri, and you shouldn’t feel guilty for grieving. Merlin knows James would’ve loved to see you wallow over him.”

Remus let out a wet, feeble chuckle as he began to run his fingers through Harry’s hair, “He always did have a penchant for the dramatics, much like his brother.”

Sirius clutched his hand to his chest (proving Remus’ previous comment correct), and he sniffed snootily as the other carried on, “I actually read something a few days ago, in one of those stupid self-help books that Molly keeps ‘accidentally’ leaving on our kitchen table. It said, ‘What is grief if not love persevering?’ and I think it’s a beautiful way to describe it.”

He hummed thoughtfully in response, watching the embers of the fire flicker slightly. The lingering smell of chocolate, tea, and old books drifted around the cottage and Sirius inhaled the calming scent of home. He allowed his mind to drift. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Home – not something Sirius was familiar with until his first year of Hogwarts. Growing up in a traditional, pureblood family like the Black’s meant that your duty and reputation came before any love or affection that your parents might want to give you (not that Walburga or Orion had an affectionate bone in their bodies anyway). It was a cruel, cold upbringing, not fit for any child, and both brothers crumbled because of it. But, for whatever reason, Sirius was introduced to the boys who would become closer and dearer to him than any blood relatives could be when he climbed on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. They had become his true home over their decade-long friendship, rather than the eerily silent and pristine Grimmauld Place that he had called home for eleven years prior. As he sat down in an already filled compartment, they began to introduce themselves. A boy with dark skin and a wide grin that could only mean mischief introduced himself as James Potter, a lanky boy littered with scars and drowned in a jumper that was two sizes too large was Remus Lupin, and then there was the final boy. Peter Pettigrew was short and pudgy, nothing particularly special, but he had a quick wit and a wicked sense of humour once he became comfortable around you. Ironic really, that the rosy-cheeked boy who was often overlooked was the one who ruined them in the end. “Peter was the one you always forgot about, always trusted without thinking twice, then you wish that you hadn’t.” Remus had said during his trial, “And part of me wonders that if we weren’t all so caught up in our own issues, perhaps if we were more perceptive and better friends, maybe we could’ve changed his mind before it was too late.”

They had spent a sleepless night under the stars after the inquiry was finished and Peter was finally locked away. The men had apparated to a large, overgrown meadow somewhere in western Europe; the moon highlighted the fallen leaves, and slowly wilting flowers. He laughed humourlessly to himself when he remembered this memory – how apt it was that the area had matched their mood, almost as if nature itself was mourning with them. A small stream trickled from somewhere behind the shrubbery, and Sirius remembered turning his head slightly to admire his boyfriend. Despite all the pain and misery that the moon had brought Remus over the last sixteen years, Sirius swore that he had never looked as beautiful as he did that night under the moonlight. He wished that he was good enough with words to write a sonnet that would do his beauty justice. As always, they didn’t feel the need to speak or break the serenity with meaningless chatter; they had a habit of understanding one another without even uttering a word. They had laid there silently until sunrise, fingers intertwined, as the air turned their breath into a plume of white steam, and the dampness of the earth seeped into their robes.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He was pulled out of his daydream by a small hand on his face, and two pairs of eyes looking at him with concern. He shook his head slightly, smiling at the two of them, “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”

“As long as I have you and our little Bambi, fy nghariad, of course. We made a promise, all of us, to stick together. I know that one of us was taken too early, and one of us betrayed us, but that doesn’t mean that the oath we made has been broken. You are my home, Sirius Lupin-Black, and we’ll be together until the very end.”

And they were. The small cottage became their sanctuary, filled with love, laughter, and fond memories. Neighbours would chat amongst themselves about how much the family had changed for the better since they first arrived, the spark of youth returned back to them. When the time came, they survived a second war too. The storm was finally over; if you asked them how they endured everything, they wouldn’t know how to answer. All they knew was that they weren’t the same kids who first walked into it – they had grown, and loved, and lost. But they had survived. And finally, for the first time since they were boys, all was well.


End file.
